Zahra Offered A Smile To The Person Xia-li Was Conversing With Before They Departed, No Doubt Realizing

the court seer of dorne took to traveling only when it seemed like it contained opportunity, or perhaps it was asked of her by those within sunspear, who no doubt perhaps would like to have some insight as to what this next gathering would bring. zahra did not believe she need read the stars to believe that the west would not bring much great opportunities for their homeland, but she respected the efforts to make this travel and form whatever alliances they could. she were not entirely privy to the intricacies of the political sphere, but she knew enough to know that an ally to the north was likely being sought, for having partnerships only across the sea would not always do them good.

tonight, however, she indulged in the masquerade, picking out one of her finest lehengas, purchasing the most colorful mask she could find, zahra felt entirely in her element this evening. it were a show, an act, and she put it on very well. despite not often dancing as the westerosi did traditionally, she knew enough of the steps to take to the dance floor on more than one occasion, the ringing her her anklets liking causing some surprise to whatever partner she happened upon.

the music ended and she gave a nod of her head to her most recent companion, before turning to pluck a drink from one of the serving trays. it were then she had spotted a young lord she had seen earlier, as well. she need not remove his mask to believe he was handsome, and zahra had always enjoyed an air of mystery.

"my lord," she responded, head tilting slightly as she grinned. "you certainly may, if you are a good lead. i'm afraid i am not always familiar with these songs." her accent rang, giving way to some of her identity behind the mask.

Closed starter for @dancingshores Setting: Lannisport, The Westerland's. The celebration of Lann's Day is in full swing, with music, dancing, and competitions.

It was a day of celebration and yet he couldn't celebrate anything with the person he'd attended Lann's Day with. He'd asked if Talia wished to dance, and she'd rejected his proposal. He'd asked if she wished to listen to some of the stories being performed, and she'd said she was in no mood for it. Perhaps it was a form of protest from his wife's side, who no doubt saw her marriage as a prison in which both Harlon and him were to blame for her oh-so-horrible fate. She was not the first woman to endure an arranged marriage nor would she be the last. And for gods' sake, she was a Lady of Oldtown now. There were far worse fates to be had in this world.

“Well, I do want to dance, my dear,” Gael stated in a polite tone, a forced smile crossing his lips —no effort going into making the gesture anything else other than what it was: fake. He ought to be more patient, he knew, but at least for the day he'd grown tired of his wife's antics and wished to enjoy something. And so the Hightower lord left Talia in the company of her guards and ladies, disappearing into the crowd.

The Master of the Arts readjusted his mask and headed for the area where lively music was playing. He got himself a drink, feeling some of the tension he'd felt minutes ago begin to dissipate gradually. There was something exciting about seeing masks all around, no uncovered faces. It was a theater performance, almost. Individuals giving themselves permission to let go of certain inhibitions, the chance to feel somewhat freer, all because no one knew who they were. He could relate to that desire today.

Gael took a long sip of his drink, finishing the contents and marched to the dance floor as a song ended and partners were changing. “May I have the next dance?” he asked as he stood before a young lady. He'd spotted her earlier, his gaze inevitably drawn to her for the way she danced.

…a dreamer. I walked enchanted, and nothing held me back.

Daphne Du Maurier, from Rebecca

What are you still hoping to accomplish?

"oh, but there's still so much out there, isn't there?" zahra asked in return with a coy smile. "i'd like to be known everywhere, not just dorne. perhaps instruct those in the east, learn more. but i do love home, very much. i don't think my heart could handle being away from sunspear for long."

the fire crackled softly, its glow mingling with the cold light spilling through the window. zahra stood by the glass, her silhouette framed against the night sky. her eyes were fixed on the comet, its long, pale tail cutting through the darkness like a wound in the heavens. it should have been a sign of hope, a beacon. but to zahra, as much as she resisted the thought for one that was a good omen, it also felt like a warning, its silent passage stirring unease in her chest. it made her wonder is signs like these brought upon different answers: for myriam she prayed it was a sign of the change she desired to create, but for zahra, she wondered if it was a sign of change that she feared from a secret yet unknown.

“volantis is complicated,” zahra began, her voice steady but measured. she unfolded her arms and stepped closer, her movements deliberate. “you’re right to be cautious. the last thing we want is to sow chaos where we mean to bring change.” she knelt by myriam’s side, her eyes finally meeting her friend’s. “but speaking to the right people could guide us. carefully. thoughtfully.”

when Myriam mentioned the volantese woman, zahra’s pulse quickened. our mother. the words echoed in her mind, heavy and intrusive. she tried not to think of that meeting, had pushed it down where secrets could breathe but not speak. her mother’s face flashed in her memory—sharp, calculating, but with a tenderness that lingered in her smile. zahra masked her hesitation with a slow, thoughtful nod. “that woman…” she began, her voice even but her thoughts racing.

zahra shifted, buying herself a moment. “yes, i remember her too. she seemed… well-connected. maybe she could help.” The words felt like stepping onto thin ice. “but we’d have to tread carefully. people in her position often have their own agendas.” and hers? even I’m not sure.

she placed a hand on myriam’s arm, grounding herself in the present. “i can try to reach out, see if she’s willing to meet. but…” zahra’s gaze flickered toward the fire, the weight of unspoken truths pressing against her ribs. “we need to be ready for whatever her intentions might be. allies can come from the unlikeliest places, but trust…” her voice softened, almost breaking. “that’s harder to earn.”

❂

myriam listened to zahra, her friend's words cutting through the haze of her doubts. the shadows of the room seemed to deepen, creating an intimate cocoon around them. she gazed down at inaaya, the baby’s tiny fingers still curled around her own. a small sigh escaped her lips. “speaking to the merchants sounds like a smart move,” she began, her voice tired but thoughtful. “but what if by doing that, i’m stirring up internal issue in volantis? it’s not even our realm. i don’t want to ignite more conflict or cause harm in a place we don’t control."

she gently rocked inaaya, the baby’s warmth providing a small measure of comfort. “it’s just... i want to believe there’s a way to make a difference without compromising who we are. it’s hard to see how when everything is so tangled.” her eyes met zahra’s, searching for reassurance. “the comet... i want to trust it means something good, but it feels like just another issue, zahra.”

drawing a deep breath, myriam tried to push away the lingering doubts. “do you have any connections in volantis?” she asked, her tone suddenly curious. “i remember seeing you speak to that lady once. can we start there? maybe she can point us toward the right people.” the thought of reaching out to someone specific gave her a sliver of hope, even if it was a tentative one.

the flickering firelight danced across the room, casting fleeting shadows on the walls. myriam held her baby close, drawing strength from the tiny life in her arms. “i don’t want to betray our legacy or our values. but we need to find allies who believe as we do, who see slavery for what it is.” she paused, feeling the weight of her words. she looked at zahra, gratitude and determination mingling in her gaze. “thank you for being here, for helping me see things a bit clearer. even if the path isn’t obvious yet.” the room’s quiet settled around them, the bond between friends a small but steady beacon in the uncertain night.

the very air about this place was shocking to zahra. everyone seemed to be moving so quick it made her head spin, always somewhere to be, always somewhere to go, always somewhere to see. she thought living that way must be exhausting, perhaps she was lucky in her ability to pave her own way, at her own pace. still, it was interesting to bear witness to. when the opportunity came to experience the reach, zahra hoped her father would agree she could travel with his household. she was not beholden to him as she once was, but they managed to still have a relatively good relationship, so she thought.

the raven-haired woman wondered about the gardens now, footsteps as if to the beat of music that played only in her mind - one, two, three, repeat. she seemed to glide, almost, as she simply took in her own existence between the shrubbery, closing her eyes and inhaling the sweet scent of flowers, far too much for her senses, but pretty nonetheless. eyes opened when her ears filled with the sound of a woman's voice, harsh and firm. zahra did not make her presence obvious, but she kept close enough to, well, there wasn't much she could do, but she wondered if she could help if necessary. witnessing more of the interaction, however, a brow rose. it seemed the man was simply trying to....speak to her? offer to accompany her? she was not all too familiar with other customs, but the language of wooing another was universal, she thought. all too soon, she acted as if she had just walked in their direction as the man brushed past her.

"are these your sons?" she questioned, keeping a distance enough to not ire the woman, as she had just witnessed, but curiosity getting the better of her to not speak up. "they're quite lucky to have a strong mother, so i overheard. was that man offending you?"

open starter / gardens at highgarden

since arriving at highgarden, willow had taken to wandering around the gardens. she never ventured too far into them but she liked following the cobbled paths close to the keep. hugo and sam were outside as well, sitting under a tree while reading their books, and she was keeping an eye on them. she preferred to know where her sons were at all times. it was control fuelled by a deep fear of losing them. in some strange way, willow believed if she knew where they were or had eyes on them, nothing terrible could happen to them. no one could hurt them. not without being assaulted by a maddened mother at least. suddenly her line of sight was blocked by a dark-haired man coming up to greet her. a knight. willow was pleasant enough in her greeting, she sent him a tight-lipped smile and made a remark about the weather, fully expecting he would move on. but then he offered her his arm to walk with her around the garden and suddenly every second he spent in her presence annoyed her.

willow blackwood was many things ― but patient was not one of them. the knight, whose name she had not bothered to ask because she did not care, was blocking her path and her way to her sons. she had lived the last thirteen years in mourning, she rarely wore anything but black, all for the purpose of avoiding situations like this. she wanted the world to see a heartbroken widow, a woman still living in the past and refusing to move on. she had strived to get rid of any suitor that had presented himself throughout the years. and in all those years willow had learned an important lesson. the faster you got rid of them, the less likely they were to stick around like bothersome flies on a warm summer day. "i am quite capable of walking on my own, ser, as you can see i have two perfectly good legs." her tone was as icy as the look on her face. "might i suggest you offer to parade another around the garden instead? ser garland perhaps?" he reacted with indignation, as they always did, and then they waited around to see shame in her eyes, but they were always left disappointed as willow simply stared them down. she felt no shame, no regret, she felt nothing but anger at him getting in her way. her anger was easy to provoke, it was always there bubbling away in her chest, eager to be unleashed. the knight left with a huff while muttering about rude ladies. she ignored him and instead her eyes immediately went to the tree her sons sat under. they were still sitting in the shade reading their books and she let out a sigh of relief.

"of course." zahra replied, tone taunting as she gave a wave of her hands, as if to say that everything about her was on the surface to read, as if to imply that is all there was to her, but that really wasn't the case, only what she hoped seemed to be. she thought she was likely predictable as she was flighty, but there was more that lie beneath the surface of the dancer of salt shore, should one decide to dig deeper.

frame floated nearer to him now, close enough to observe dark orbs more closely, one's she found herself ogling at as a young girl in the halls of yronwood. she was not a girl anymore, but the intrigue with the man before her remained. there was some darkness about the man, no doubt a cloak of the tragedy of betrayal that befell him, but she was the sun, eager to shine her light, if only a moment.

"yah jaanane ka abhaav ki vah kab hoga, manoranjan ka hee ek hissa hai." ( not knowing when that will be is only part of the fun. ) zahra insisted, head tilting slightly to the side, a half-smirk coming upon the corners of her mouth. a hand shifting the silk skirts of her golden lehenga, even standing still for a brief time seemed impossible for the woman who's feet never touched the ground.

for that is what there was to zahra sand, she did not have roots, she had wings, and the woman never seemed to perch for long. where some believed it to be a downfall, she found to be a gift. not many had the opportunities she did, and while she was a bastard, there was privledge in her birth. she often had the opportunities to experience both parts of their world.

her arms folded over her chest now, suddenly stilling, the very cogs of her mind clearly seen moving behind hazel hues. "aur vah kya kaaran hoga?" ( and what reason would that be? ) her tone was on the brink of being almost challenging in her inquiry.

"he is well, and i am sure he would be glad to hear from you, my lord." though zahra did not pay much attention to such business, she knew enough from the letters back and forth from her to her father. "i have been so busy i would not know much of his affairs. I prefer to deal in pleasures over business."

dancingshores​:

there was not a room that zahra could walk in and not become acquainted with someone, in this instance, it was many someone’s. though she much preferred dorne to any other region of the realm, the dancer very much enjoyed the presence of people, and in these circumstances, one’s she could learn much from. she found the culture of others to be fascinating, if not to realize how much she preferred and loved everything about her own, from the music, to the food, to, frankly, the very people themselves.

she wasn’t quite sure how she managed to find herself in the center of a circle that formed, perhaps it was to prove a point, or to simply give in to the pleads of reachmen to grace them with one dance. zahra did not really care either way, she enjoyed any opportunity to showcase her craft.

and so there she was, golden silks of her lehenga flowing about her, like waves within the sea. there was a faraway tune playing, but the sounds of bangles gave way to her own melody within the song. chestnut curls seemed to float about her in their own beat, and in her mind she was transported, as she often found happening when the room around her became nothing more than an assortment of lights and colors. a small grin played at her lips as she made her final spin, hands that were raised up slowly falling back down to her sides as the small audience that had formed gave their applaud.

a familiar figure suddenly approached her, though it did not seem so sudden. she had caught sight of him earlier in the evening, recalling a time that seemed not so long ago when she visited the halls of yronwood. she was young then, and found herself quite absorbed with the handsome lord. much had happened since then, and suddenly that time of her life seemed to be within another century entirely.

“mainne aapakee nigaraanee ke bina kaee jagahon par nrty kiya hai.” (i have danced many places without your watchful eye.) a half-smirk tugged up at the corners of her mouth, her spirited, independent nature somewhat taking over for a moment. “yadi aap chaahen to dekhane ke lie aapako kisee bahaane kee aavashyakata nahin hai.” (you need no excuse to watch if you’d like.) her not returning to the center, however, as another tune began to play gave her answer for her, and the crowd began to disperse.

“it is nice to see you, lord yronwood.”

꙰

“is that what you have been doing all these years? dancing your heart away?” he asked, arms crossing over the breadth of his torso. flighty, as flighty as the golden silk threads upon the skirts of her lehenga which twirled as joyously as the small slip of a smile that crossed over her features. he heard the sounds of her anklets jingling, and for a moment there was something abut her that strangely resembled the features he saw of the princess on a day to day basis. the lord of yronwood merely looked upon her, and there was a hint of a challenge within his own dark orbs: they were devoid of the storm that usually lived within them, swirled and thrived within them. a different type of darkness as he looked upon the half smirk upon her full lips; though he said no words. 

“ek din tum itana ghoomoge ki ruk ​​nahin paoge.“ (one day you’ll spin so much you will be unable to stop.) these dancers all seemed entirely flighty, wishing to find their purpose in their life - looking for something to make them feel alive, whilst walking away from a sense of stability. hedonistic were some, and perhaps that was because they could be.

in recent months this woman had made multiple trips into the fortress of sunspear, directly into the apartments of the princess and the future heir of dorne: dancing lessons, were what he supposed the important business was. in years prior, she was the spoiled, pampered daughter of lord gargalen; dressed in the silks he acquired as a result of his hand in the clothing and textile trade. the bloodroyal took his money seriously, even in his youth: he looked at what trades would be the most beneficial, where would be worth investing his coin. 

“koee bahaana nahin. kisee kaaran ke baare mein kya?“ (not an excuse, but what about a reason?) he remained stood to the side of where she had stood in the middle of a circle that clapped and applauded her; the sight amused him. the sight made him want her. 

it were as though nothing had changed when he looked upon her: to live life weight free, to live life as it was supposed to be lived. he did not envy her. for things that were light were easily swept away. they needed something to hold their weight, something to keep their feet firmly upon the ground: armaan had realised that he was entirely content with his position in life. stepping down from the council in which he only but clash with the prince in all but name, disagree with certain methods: and yet now, dorne was taking the time to heal. finally. “how is your father doing? i have been meaning to reach out to enquire as to the textile trade. whether it has been impacted by movement across the narrow sea.” he asked.

they toyed between their own tongue, and the common tongue. as though what else was spoken between them was to only be understood by them, and those who knew it. 

armaan (for zahra)

I like you // I love you // You’re one of my best friends // You’re like family // You are family // I dislike you // I hate you // I’d kill you if I got the chance // I want you to like me // I’m scared of you // I would adopt you // I’d date you // I’d sleep with you // I’d marry you // I’m worried about you // You confuse me // You’re annoying // I pity you // I respect you // I trust you // I feel protective of you // I’d invite you with me to parties // I’d lend you my money // I’d borrow your money // You’re good-looking // I’m suspicious of you // I’m hiding something from you // You’re fun // You’re boring // I’m upset with you // You’re nice // You’re mean // I’m envious of you // You’re smart // You’re stupid // I look up to you // I think you’re a better person than me // I think I’m a better person than you // I want to apologize to you // I wish I’d never met you // I never want to forget you // I want to get to know you better

@armaans

slender fingers let the parchment that hazel hues had just scanned over roll back into the position in which is was given to her, the smooth paper being placed upon a table near the doors of her chamber. there was quiet instruction to the pageboy awaiting outside her doors, an indication of her acceptance of such an invitation. a feeling of satisfaction came over her, though such parchment did not come entirely as a surprise, truth be told. it was not the words they spoke earlier in the evening that gave way to her intuition, rather, the tone that hung over them the entirety of their conversation.

adorned in the same golden lehenga, the soft sound of clinking anklets could be heard as she made her way down the hall of the wing set aside for the dornish court within highgarden. though the hour was late, and the hall mostly quiet, few others passed her on her way to the lord of yronwood’s chambers. hazel orbs seemed to fixate on the path in front of her, a habit she often found herself taking to within her very art - for when she had her mind set to one thing, it would take much to stop her.

a shimmer of gold approached the large oak doors, and after a quick knock she was let within the room. chestnut waves swayed back and forth as she entered, the very steps she took almost giving way to the natural rhythm of her body. her lips tugged upwards in a smile now. though her features remained playful as they ever were, there now held some predatory look within her eyes, the slightest dilation of one’s pupils as she looked upon the lord now, but one would need to be close to notice such a thing.

it begged the question of whether she was the predator, or the prey - something she had wondered earlier in the evening, and perhaps fell into being the latter given she had waltzed into his trap. though she were not some meek mouse in the clutches of a feline. there was enough of a hint in her eyes that indicated she, too, could be the cat, though she would not say he were the mouse, either.

thoughts played in her mind as she stepped further in, though still some paces from the other. the slight tilt of her head causing dark tresses to pour to one side of her shoulder, framing the same side of her face. “armaan.” she spoke now, his name rolling off of her tongue as a coy smile played upon her features, a slight dimple appearing upon her cheek. “kya aap chaahate hain ki main aapako in kakshon kee seema ke bheetar bulaoon?" ( is that what you wish me to call you within the confines of these chambers? ) a drop in formalities, his letter implied. it seemed clear there was no need for them here.

who: @dancingshores what: a note sent to zahra sand following armaan's departure from the wedding festivities of king cedric tyrell and lady illya oakheart. this is set following their interaction, currently in thread form.

Send a page before you make your way to my bedchambers.

The guards will know you are coming.

Keep the gold lehenga on.

Armaan

caramel colored hues brightened at the grin upon xia-li's face, no doubt glad to see an old friend again, but also glad to be more welcome company to the lady of the north. zahra's relaxed disposition seemed to fit perfectly with the free spirit that was the lady of fir hold. she did not know much of life in the north, other than simply visiting did not sound enticing in the least. the cold climate did not seem to suit the woman before her, who, in contrast, was warm as the dornish sun. "a wet sheep." she repeated, a laugh escaping her now. "well, something about mother's know best, but i might respectfully disagree."

hand took the others, no doubt a look of friendship to anyone who might gaze upon the two, and truly that is what their relationship was to it's core - kindred spirits who ebbed and flowed into one another's lives like the tide meets and recedes from the shore. "well, the people here are quite easily entertained if enough of the reach's finest red fills their belly's, i can say." zahra's experienced was not much more thrilling than the woman's before her, other than an evening spent dancing before some lord's and lady's, those who no doubt did not respect her craft as much as they did in dorne, but she danced nonetheless, because she enjoyed it.

"gods, i was going to say the same of you." zahra quipped. "home is the same, really." the dancer, however, did not pay much attention to political matters, or rather, she did not care to discuss them much. "and up north? i hope things are much better, now."

cavalier and cool demeanor is quick to melt around the dornish woman, lips quirking upward at the playful response shes given. there's little need for such an attitude when zahras in her presence, not when they've known each other in such ways that facades are impossible to keep up. "no need for flattery, qīń ài de. i believe it was my mother who told me i move with all the grace of a wet sheep and im inclined to believe her." chuckle laces through a humored admission. its true, she lacks the poise that her sisters possess and had she given as much of a care towards her status as she did conversing with the woman she lingers an acceptable distance from, it might have struck a nerve enough for change.

"the wine and the views are divine, i must admit. the people however," tongue clicks against the roof of her mouth, a signifier of her distaste for the forced company. chance to lounge in temperate weather was truly the only factor in her decision to willingly join her family in the reach. that, and the chance to cross paths with zahra once more. "let us say that your presence is a beacon of light in my dim experience. i have the gods to thank for the journey that brought you here. i've been feeling a bit deprived of dorne and all its delights." offers a hand that passerby might construe as friendly towards her. "walk with me, tell me all i've missed."